


Madness

by Fire_Sign



Series: Phrack Fucking Fridays [12]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, pff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-03 16:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10971186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign
Summary: It had been--by Phryne’s very rough estimations--ten days, three hours, and twenty-seven minutes since she had returned from London, and she was still waiting to get Jack Robinson in her bed. There’d been two dinners, a ridiculous number of kisses, and some delightful heavy petting that he’d called an end to because he--and she quoted--“had work in the morning.” She was quite certain it was a campaign to drive her mad.June's PFF fic.





	Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I am away for the majority of this week. The WiFi is coooperating, briefly, so this is getting posted now even though it's not yet Friday for most of us. I'm sure you can bear the disapointment.

It had been--by Phryne’s very rough estimations--ten days, three hours, and twenty-seven minutes since she had returned from London, and she was still waiting to get Jack Robinson in her bed. There’d been two dinners, a ridiculous number of kisses, and some delightful heavy petting that he’d called an end to because he--and she quoted--“had work in the morning.” She was quite certain it was a campaign to drive her mad.

Fortunately, he was due any moment now and all of his excuses were irrelevant for the next twenty-four hours. She had on a gown that she knew full well was sheer in the right light (and she’d made sure she had the right light), his favourite foods to be served (because her inspector was extraordinary in many ways, but when it came to his stomach he was shockingly predictable), and a mission. She’d just like to see Jack resist _that_.

(There was, of course, the galling possibility that he would. One must be prepared for all eventualities, after all. The man was remarkably skittish at times.)

There was a knock at the door, and Phryne went to answer it herself. To her amazement, Jack stepped inside and swept her into his arms for a kiss. She pulled back, reaching out to adjust his lapels.

“Well, that was a welcome surprise,” she smiled, then tilted her head towards the parlour. “Pre-dinner drink?”

“You need to ask?”

How positively auspicious; she moved towards the parlour, stopping to pour two whiskeys. She saw the minute he noticed the sheerness of her gown in the firelight, and the way he swallowed hard.

“Problem, Jack?” she asked innocently.

The lustful gaze he raked over her sent a shiver through her, and that slow, lazy smile… 

“Not at all, Phryne.”

“Good,” she purred, coming to sit beside him on the chaise and tucking her feet beneath her. 

Her fingers brushed his as he handed him the tumbler, letting the contact linger for longer than necessary. As they talked and drank they found any excuse to touch--the brush of fingers; a tie that needed to be fixed but was removed instead, and the first button on his shirt undone; a thumb against the apple of her cheek; her knees nudging his leg--until the moment he leant closer, kissing her with a softness that only made her want him more. 

She slid around, coming to straddle his thighs, her mouth on his growing more insistent. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer--even fully clothed she could feel the hard length of his erection pressed against her.

“Did you… see something you liked?” she teased breathlessly.

His hand moved from her waist to her breast rather than answer, only just brushing it through the material of her dress, and she whined.

“You’ve been doing this on purpose,” she accused.

“Doing what?”

“Driving me mad. The kisses and the looks and the… you!”

He chuckled. “I wish I was that diabolical, but I’m afraid my refusals up to this point have had far more practical reasons.”

“So you’re not… running scared?” she asked, only realising in that moment how worried she was that the answer would be yes.

“I think you stripped me of all my self-preservation tendencies a long time ago,” he said. “Only madness is left.”

She grinned, an expression that was all teeth and desire, and attacked his mouth. His shirt was pulled from his trousers, the braces undone so she could slip her hand inside his trousers, pushing the fabric down and stroking his cock. He moaned, his head tilting back against the chaise and making him look wantonly abandoned. 

“Look at me, Jack,” she ordered. 

His eyes opened, his pupils wide, and she bent her head to kiss his philtrum; he encouraged her to rise up so he could lift her dress over her hips.

“Christ,” he cursed softly, realising that she wore nothing beneath. “You’ve taken care of…?”

She nodded, kissing him again, and he groaned as he clasped her waist once more.

“Good. I need to be inside you.”

The word _need_ stoked the desire within her to nearly unbearable heights, and she slipped her hand between them to position his cock before sinking down. They paused for a second, savouring the connection, then began to move--tentatively at first, seeking a rhythm that suited them both, but soon enough Phryne could feel the first tendrils of orgasm coiling. When the tightness became unbearable, her breath catching in every thrust, she sped up, her mind on nothing but the building tension in her gut, the hard slapping of flesh against flesh, his fingers on her clit and the thrusting of his cock, the scrape of his teeth against her clavicle, the groan he made as she grasped his hair.

“More,” she urged, pressing her hips against his. “I’m so--”

Another thrust and she tipped over, the rest of her sentence lost in a wail and the white hot flash of climax that obliterated everything else. 

When she came back to awareness Jack was holding her close even as she rocked slowly against him, wringing out the last of her pleasure and seeking his, and there was a knock on the parlour door.

“Miss? Is everything well?” came a concerned voice from the other side.

Phryne froze in her gentle undulations.

“Oh yes Mr. B! I just… saw a spider, but the inspector’s dealt with it,” she bluffed, grinning impishly at Jack as she did. Squeezing her internal muscles around his cock, Phryne admired the suppressed groan and flushed cheeks.

“Very well, miss.”

Phryne waited until he was gone, then looked at Jack.

“He’s usually far more aware,” she apologised, uncertain if his newfound boldness extended so far, but he actually grinned.

“I might be wrong, but I suspect that was loud even for you. Better to find it was an _arachnid_ than realise later it was an intruder.”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she began to move again. 

“You know, I’m beginning to approve of all this madness,” she said. 

The look he flashed her was equal parts cheeky and tender.

“The feeling is entirely mutual.”


End file.
